Ethical Dilemma
by NurseLintu
Summary: Tutor!Cas/Student!Dean Human AU Professor Castiel Novak and student Dean Winchester have a minor disagreement in after class. Smut ensues!


**Okay, so maybe I have a kink with certain dress senses that I just can't darn well explain! But this is an idea that I TOTALLY ripped off my friend, who wrote it, then her computer died, and we chatted, and she agreed that I could have a go at it! This is dedicated to her =D It kinda starts off as a bitta Destiel filth, but I shall invent a storyline! Reviews make me happy ^-^ Hints, suggestions please [=**

Castiel leans back in his chair, clenching his jaw and knitting his knuckles together tightly in frustration. "I'd like to see you after class please, Mr. Winchester." He says calmly, raising his blue eyes to meet Dean's green ones, and he holds his gaze steady, until Dean drops his side of the challenge, smirking and scoffing. Dean Winchester had been showing more attitude than Castiel can really deem necessary or acceptable since he took on this class, and Castiel feels it's about time he has a few stern words with the young roustabout.

Cas keeps his eyes on Dean for a while longer, ensuring he's regained his moral high ground and tutor superiority before returning to pointing at images on the white board and yapping on about them. He keeps a third eye trained on Dean, who is making absolutely no effort to cover up the fact that he is checking out his tutor, eyes travelling over his body, resting on his lips and his ass. Castiel is dressed in his usual attire; a black suit and tie with a white shirt. The suit jacket is folded neatly over the back of his chair, but the waistcoat is still in place over his button down. Cas prefers to wear braces than a belt – belts rarely fit his slim waistline and he ends up with the dress pants hanging low and looking downright scruffy and stupid, and he can rarely find a belt he actually _likes_ anyway, because he's a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to clothes and… well everything… and nothing would set off his OCD like a worn out hole on a belt, all cracked false leather and fraying stitches, and he wasn't prepared to replace a belt every two weeks – but he learned early on in his career that teenagers think of braces as somewhat of a fashion faux pas, and like to tease him and place bets on who can get in the best _twang_ on them in the corridor without getting caught, and the last thing Castiel wanted was to have attention drawn to him. So he keeps on his waistcoat, regardless of the heat.

Class ends all too soon, and Castiel bids a good day to each student in turn as the exit the class room, and most reply with either a smile or a nod, and the occasional "Cheers. You too," Until eventually, it is only Castiel and Dean.

Castiel makes a point of packing his briefcase neatly in an unamused silence, not so much as look at Dean until he is done, and he is standing in front of his table, leaning casually on it. He clasps his hands on to his table either side of his legs, then finally looks up at the troublesome teen, whom has one arm draped over his desk and is sitting sideways on his chair. "I appreciate that you have a good knowledge of this subject, Dean," Cas starts, using his best I'm-your-teacher-and-I-_know_-you're-better-than-this voice. "I do not, however, appreciate your attitude towards me,"

Dean chortles and rises to his feet, mirroring Castiel's stance on his own desk. "Well, what can I say? Daddy taught me well,"

Castiel nods slightly, his jaw setting in frustration at the manner of his student. "Yes. Well I'm sure he also taught you good manners and etiquette, too." He grinds out, a little more harshly than he intends to; he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth, and he sees a look of anguish cross the teenager's handsome face. Before Cas has a chance to defend himself, Dean has his fists in the front of Castiel's waistcoat, and his faces barely two inches away from his. Castiel can smell faded after shave, and the rich smell of that leather jacket. Dean's emerald eyes, staring in to Cas' sapphire eyes, are hard and furious, as he speaks, his breath is aniseed and sweet and hot on Cas' lips, and Ca withers a litte.

"You know nothing about my Father," The venom on Dean's voice tones it deeper and rougher than usual.

"I apologize," Castiel returns, his own voice colored by the shame of his feelings. "I was out of line." He adds breathily.

Dean pushes closer to Castiel, the table groaning in protest at the extra pressure. "Damn straight you're out of line."

Castiel huffs as the table digs in to the backs of his thighs, and Dean's grip tightens on his clothing. He feels his cheeks heating up and he reaches for Dean's forearms in a bid to pry himself free of the teen's vice like grip, but succeeds only in making Dean hold on tighter. Castiel's breathing hitches as Dean presses against him again, and he whispers threats in to Castiel's ear, sending waves of heat from his ears down to his groin.

"Bad mouth my Father again and you will regret it. Are we clear?"

Cas nods weakly, his eyes squeezed shut and he waits – prays – for Dean to back off. Dean pushes against Cas again, and Cas can't stop the gasp that escapes his lips as he feels Dean's crotch press into his erection. He dares to open his eyes, praying again that Dean hasn't noticed, only to find Dean closer than before, his eyes on Castiel's lips, and Dean brushes past Castiel's erection again, forcing another whimper from his tutor.

"Are you _enjoying_ this?" Dean hisses incredulously, and he presses his chest against Castiel's.

"you should go," Cas rasps, looking to the floor, shame marring his features. He feels Dean release one side of his waistcoat, and the now free hand runs down Cas' front, finding the waistband on his pants easily.

"Dean," Cas warns with a weak attempt to push the larger young man off him. "Please," Dean's hand drops to Castiel's thigh and Cas flinches, grabbing at the offending arm. "_Stop_," The hand wanders lightly across the bulge in Cas' pants, and Cas shudders at the contact. "Dean," He tries again, but his monosyllabic protests are cut short when Dean's lips crash with his own, and another whimper opens Cas' lips just enough for Dean's tongue to push in and invade his mouth, and Cas allows it for a moment, savoring Dean's taste, the softness of his lips, the heat of his tongue and the way it hits all the right places in Castiel's mouth, not to mention the surely illegal things that hand is doing to Cas' lower regions. He musters up his strength and self control and pushes Dean away. "Dean, no," Strong arms pull him away from his table and send him hurling in to the class room desks, sending several clattering loudly to the floor. He manages to get to his feet again, tasting his own blood where he had bitten his lip during his face first collision with the corner of one of the desks, but he is thrown again, this time to the front of the class, where he crashes in to the whiteboard, and Castiel hisses in pain as his ribs receive a sharp jab from the pen holder. He coughs as the air is knocked out of his lungs, and doubles over in pain, holding his sides with one hand and holding the other hand out in defense. "Dean, enough!" Cas barks, but he is brought upright again, head hitting the whiteboard, and he hopes that crack was his skull and not the whiteboard, because _that_ would come out of his pay check, and he coughs again, tasting more blood, but the masochistic side of him _enjoys _the pain as Dean yanks his hair and nips and sucks on the bare skin of his neck, and Dean's hands grip his wrists so tightly and his nails dig in hard enough to surely draw blood, and Dean's hips rut against his own _hard _and Cas feels himself give in to Dean as his student utters the most unholy words and sounds Cas has ever heard. Then Dean is on his mouth again, after pausing to grin, and he sucks the blood from Castiel's lips, and he bites down on them, pushing Castiel's wrists harder in to the whiteboard, and if Castiel doesn't bruise from this, then he'll hand over his life savings to the president. Dean swallows Castiel's defeated moans and Cas feels his wrists being released, and the hands spend a moment teasing his erection before slipping round to his ass, and Dean hoists Cas right up off the floor, and Cas can feel Dean's erection against his ass through his jeans, and Dean grinds and rubs against Castiel in ways he never thought possible. Cas' hands grab at Dean's hair and his legs wrap around Dean's waist, in total rebellion of his mind. He can feel one of Dean's hands working at the button and zip of his pants, and he suddenly feels embarrassed about his braces as Dean's fingers find them and unclip them.

"Braces, huh?" Dean breathes as he breaks away from the kiss for a moment. "Hot,"

Remembering how to speak as Dean trails kisses down his neck and over his shoulder, Cas tries again. "Dean… We shouldn't do this." His hands contradict his words again as he sneaks a grope of Dean's perfect hard on, and Cas can't help but smile as Dean moans at his touch.

"I know, but I really," Kisses "_Really_ want to," Dean fumbles with more buttons. "Why do you think…" Tongue flicking across nipple, and sucking gently. "I took this class,"

Those words make Castiel wane more, and he bites his lip as Dean's teeth sink in on his chest, over and over, leaving marks all over. He feels Dean moving to unclip the back of his braces, and feels dizzy with the realization of what Dean is actually after with him. Cas is then dropped on to his chair, pants around his ankles, and his boxers feeling painfully tight. Dean continues marking Castiel's chest as his hands work to distract the pain by stroking and teasing at Castiel's cock. Cas is half crazy with lust as Dean's head drops and he lays hot, wet kisses on his thighs, inching up gradually, then nuzzling at Cas' boxers as one hand slips up the leg of the boxers, and the other works Castiel's aching erection finally free. Dean's eyes lock with Cas' as he playfully flicks his tongue over the end of Cas' cock, each time making Cas jump from over sensitivity.

"Dean," Castiel gives one final shot at stopping the most fateful mistake of his young career, "Please, _stop_,"

Dean plunges Cas' entire length in to his mouth, and his lips seem to fit perfectly around it, and he works up and down the length of the shaft, one hand caressing Castiel's balls, the other assisting his mouth, and Castiel mewls helplessly, beyond any hope of stopping now. As Cas begins to feel dangerously close to filling Dean's mouth with his load, Dean suddenly stops and grins. "You sure you want me to stop?"

Cas shakes his head hopelessly as Dean teasingly sucks on his own fingers.

"I can stop if you like?" His hands are still working, briskly enough to keep Cas on the edge, but gently enough not to allow him to tip over.

Castiel shakes his head again, his eyes widening as Dean gets to his feet and drops his jeans and slips his manhood out of his underwear. He begins to play with himself with his left hand, his right hand back by his mouth as he sucks his fingers.

Cas watches for a couple of minutes, the sight of Dean pleasuring himself almost too much to handle, before he gives in and returns the favour. Dean's cock fits in his mouth perfectly, and he can taste the saltiness of Dean's precum on his tongue as he swirls it around Dean's cock. The noises Dean is making spur him on, and he feels Dean's fingers knot in to his hair for a moment before Castiel gets hurled again. Castiel's hands shoot forward as he looks to stunt the fall, and they land on his desk, sending his pot of pens and his briefcase scattering across the floor. Dean's chest presses against Castiel's back and teeth graze at Cas' neck and his ears whilst hands grab at his hips and an erection is pressed against his bare ass. Cas tries one last time to stop Dean, but the reply is whispered roughly in to his ear, and Castiel surrenders completely. "I wanna fuck you, Cas," And a wet finger is tracing his entrance, and it pushes inside him. Cas lets out of discomfort as a second finger is inserted, and Dean pushes them in as deep as they will go, and Cas leans back on them as the scissor him open, ready for Dean. "Do you want me to stop?"

Cas whimpers at the loss of Dean's fingers and he presses back, trying to capture them again, but manages only to push on Dean's erection. "No, please," Cas purs wantonly, arching his back and pressed back on Dean. "Don't stop,"  
That's all Dean needs to hear, and he lines himself up with Cas' entrance and begins to push inside. He stops as Castiel grabs on to the opposite side of his table and cries out in pain. "Okay?"

Castiel nods, gripping the table and relaxing his muscles around Dean, allowing him to ease deeper in. An aroused moan escapes Dean as he bottoms out inside his tutor, and he pauses for them both to adjust before he pulls out and pushes back in again. "_Fuck_,"

Castiel's head drops to the table, and he spreads his legs eagerly to give Dean easier access. Dean moans appreciatively as his slides in and out with more ease, and he grips on to Cas' hips again, gradually picking up pace, unable to keep his eyes from what he is doing. Dean leans down and tangles his fingers in Castiel's hair, his other hand pushes the clothes out of the way and allows skin to skin contact. Cas relishes the feeling of Dean's body pounding against his own, the very thought of being bent over his desk and fucked is enough to drive him wild. Dean is panting erratically, and the sounds coming from him are nothing short of pornographic as he leans down further and rotates his hips, angling so he hits the sweet spot inside Cas. Castiel reacts by pushing back on to Dean, in an attempt to get him as deep as possible, the pleasure of his spot being stimulated far overpowering the discomfort and pain of being entered for the first time in nearly two years. "Dean…" His next words melt in to incoherent moans of ecstasy as Dean grips his hip in one hand and his hair in the other and he nips and sucks on his neck.

"Fuck, Cas…" Dean mumbles, his breath hot and ragged, and he moans out load as Castiel clenches around him, "Cas… mmmfuckkkk!" He bites down on the soft flesh of Cas' neck as he climaxes inside him, Castiel's muscles contracting and milking him, as his own load shoots out across his table. Dean pumps a last few times, muttering something about 'amazing' and 'beautiful' and 'perfect' then settles for pressing kisses to Cas' neck, before finally – and regrettably – pulling his spent cock from inside his tutor, and setting about putting his clothes back on as Castiel rebuttons his shirt and pulls his trousers back up. Dean offers to fasten the back of his braces, and does so, pausing to trace fingertips on Cas' lower back. The hands stray round his front and encircle his waist, and Cas softens in to his touch. Dean peppers kisses on his neck and jaw from behind, one hand wandering down to Cas' cock and, incredibly, Cas feels it begin to react.

"We should do that again," Dean turns Cas to face him; he looks euphoric and – lovesick? Without letting him answer, Dean pushes Cas in to a deep kiss. No longer rampant and invasive and horny; this time it's slow, soft but still needy.

"Dean…" But a finger presses against his lips, silencing him again.

"I'll see you in class tomorrow," Dean gives castiel one final kiss before leaving.

Castiel is _so_ fucked.

**So my Wife's computer's gone all silly and I can't see… So unbetad by me and anyone else! Any ideas welcome =p**


End file.
